


comfort me with apples, for i am sick of love

by Rhythm



Category: Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town, 牧場物語つながる新天地 | Story of Seasons
Genre: 18 Years and Marvelous is STILL forcing me to make my own food, Horrible People Have a Romance, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Probably going to be profoundly stupid at some parts I can't write seriously for more than 5 minutes, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25408912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhythm/pseuds/Rhythm
Summary: an account of the transactional marriage between the farmer and the local conman.
Relationships: Yuto / Huang | Won (Harvest Moon)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	1. Summer 13, Year 3

_‘Why me?’  
_

He had not asked it the first time - when the farm boy had come in brandishing that 狗日 cheap plastic feather - and Huang had all but lunged at his arm, silk sleeves whipping to conceal the offer he had made underneath.

“Aha..ha...“ He had pressed the offending object back into its owner’s hoodie - _nothing to see here_ \- shooting glances at his roommate and praying he hadn't noticed. “Perhaps we should negotiate the terms of your offer...elsewhere..?” 

Alas, the damage had already been done; their eyes had locked for a moment, and the shipper’s attention had been roused. He hadn't said anything - he respected when he was with a customer, at least - but he could feel his eyes burrowing into the back of his skull as he’d all but shoved the farmer out the door. Were fortune with him, Zack would assume it was another illicit deal _(it would have hardly been the first) -_ something he had typically negotiated on the docks, albeit typically after sundown. Privacy and all that. But today, the boy of summer and the blonde flake who claimed to hear trees had them surrounded, and **_both_ **of them seemed quite interested in the mountain he was attempting to escort. 

“ ** _Your home,_** ” Huang hisses through gritted teeth, to which the farmer nods, shoulders shuddering ever so slightly. He could’ve sworn to have heard him laugh. Perhaps he was more accustomed to the prying eyes that had followed them to the manor on the south end of the village. Huang, who had known the sweltering heat of the wooden shack and the attentions of few but Zack's occasional visitor, couldn't quite claim the same. It was a sentiment as unrelenting as the budding summer sun they walked under; no matter where they turned, which path they took, it never ceased to beat down upon them for the full duration of what had felt like a two hour trek there.

And when they arrive, and the door is shut, he takes barely a moment to breathe again before the demand falls out of his mouth the way it hadn't earlier;

**_“Why me?”_ **

For both of them know there is no love in this union. 

It's well implied in the statement he makes; Huang loves only money. There had been no indication otherwise within those three years up to that point, save for a bit of praise when the farm boy had brought him gold from his mining ventures... but that was only natural for a businessman, wasn’t it? It was only good practice to be kind with one’s honored customers. Particularly ones generous with their _business_. 

But to this, the farmer just smiles. “I cannot give them what they’re looking for.”

It is a lie, Huang thinks. He knows. For that is the other implication - the farmer is the most eligible bachelor in town. In three years, he had amassed from his Grandfather’s ruins a greater fortune than any who drudged themselves along Mineral Town's cobblestone paths had ever known. The farm, Sunset Ridge itself, was rumored to be run on magic - they exported the best produce on the continent, if not in the world... without the owner so much as lifting a finger, considering how much time he'd been spotted away from it.  
And yet, his animals had won first prize in every festival.   
And yet, his efforts had netted him millions _per day_ , even as the snow blanketed the fields and prevented even the smallest sprout from rising up.  
And yet, he was so _**beloved**_ by the common folk that he'd supposedly been the lover of every eligible suitor in town, were the rumors true. _What could such a person not have?_

“Sorry for springing this on you suddenly, but I do got a reason for it.”

_Not telepathy, apparently._

Perhaps sensing his confusion, the farmer gestures for him to sit with an easy smile. A reason? _This should be good._ Somewhat warily, he takes a few steps back towards the dining table and settles himself in, an eyebrow raising slowly above the frames of his glasses. _Continue._

Once he's seated, the farmer takes a few steps towards the window, not facing him in a move that he could only charitably describe as 'dramatics'.

“Tell me honestly, Huang. Do you think someone who runs an enterprise like mine has room for a family?”

"Room for family? On the land you inherited from your grandfather?"

Huang had never been known to be a particularly charitable man.

The farmer gives him a _look_ , however, and he is reminded that he is in the midst of... well, he isn't actually sure, at this point. But the severity of the gaze is enough to encourage him to put a little more thought to his word choice.

“I would… not think so,” He begins slowly, ignoring the dull ache in the backs of his legs that came with the awareness that he was finally off them. “But you-- **_this_ **is hardly a normal circumstance.”

In more ways than one. He could have sworn to have seen a purple flicker of light in the fields beyond the other's silhouette, amid the glistening tomatoes that seemed to disappear from their patches. He closes his eyes tight as though there was anything left in his tear ducts that hadn't evaporated away in the summer heat to refresh his vision. _A trick of the summer heat, surely._ The farmer laughs. 

“I guess not.” Leaving the window behind, he settles across from him at the table. “But extraordinary people require extraordinary circumstances, you know. And that's where my proposal -- well, my _proposition_ is."

"... Go ahead." 

"It's regarding... well. You may be able to guess." A small nod, down to the upper edge of the feather poking out of his pocket. "I’ve had my fun, but I have no interest in anyone in this town. Isn’t that horrible?”

"Do I not count as a citizen of this town?"

"I can say with reasonable confidence that you don't pay taxes... so no."

"... Touche. But your _disinterest_. And my ability to have some sort of magnificent quality that counteracts that. You had a point you were making. Chop chop."

"I'm not going to praise you, if that's what you're waiting for." He chuckles at that, but there's a quality to it that's almost hollow to hear. “It's no specific quality of yours so much as one you do not have. They are innocent and think purely of a union built on love and hard work. I think they deserve that much." He sighs, low and hard. "But as long as they keep hedging their hopes on someone like me, none of them will look and see each other.”

 _So the rumors were true, then_. Were this not the farmer's rather impressive ego speaking, there was a realization to be found in there that discomforted even Huang himself. 

“You are… speaking of them like ants. Beasts with no minds of their own.”

He sits up straight and proper.

“You used the good graces of the people of this town, and now that you are **_bored,_ ** you are looking for an easy way out??”

“ _People in glass farm houses_ , Huang.” He props his elbow up on the table and rests his cheek upon his palm. Leaning a little closer. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your miraculous 500-gold apples. Angel's spit?"

"Angel _**Eternal,** Pure-Fresh-Elegant_ _Apple_." He corrects. The farmer shrugs. If their relationship was on a bar, he'd just dipped into the lowest possible level of points for a few scant moments. 

"Point is, you’re just as much of a parasite as I am. But **I** , at least, have the veneer of philanthropy. Can you say the same?”

Huang's jaw, by this point, has tensed itself enough that it threatened to lock if kept much longer. “...Kindly leave my business models out of this, _honored customer._ ”

“ **Yu-** to.” The farmer corrects, mimicking his earlier tone. “Has all of this upset you so much that you’d forgotten my name?”

“Well, I--” He stops himself. Grounds his palms on the rough-hewn tabletop. In spite of its appearances, the wood was still of excellent quality, and he simply couldn't afford to lose a customer of this magnitude. And so, as he'd often done in the past, Huang swallows his pride. “You… You realize the sort of thing you are asking here, yes? What of those _other lovers_? The anger I would receive for taking upon myself your deserved scorn…” He shakes his head, pressing his hands on the table and standing, cementing himself as - he'd like to think - the one with the power in this negotiation. “Everybody present is aligned with _**someone** _you intend to be hurting. I would never be able to do business in this town again.”

“I realize that.” Yuto doesn’t budge. “This isn’t an offer I make cheaply.” 

“Then what--” He paused a moment as the farmer’s free hand was raised. More to say.

“As I said, I cannot give them anything. But you? I could give you **_everything._** ” 

_**"Everything?"**_ Huang parrots, incredulous, his jaw unclicking only through the weight of what that may have... _suggested._ _Everything,_ from a man that had no interest in love... he feels the muscles in his shoulders slacken as the ideas begin to run rampant in his mind with the threat of carrying him off with them. Yuto nods. 

“You just want to be wealthy, don’t you? Move out of Zack’s bachelor pad? Have more options for your life beyond selling apples door to door and standing behind an orange crate all day?" 

He gestures out the window.

“All of that, and the profits from it, could be yours.” 

The prospect draws him in enough that he nods on a barer instinct than he’d like to admit to having - an act of hypnosis he'd play the willing fool to. The corners of Yuto’s lips curl up a little further with the realization, and he gestures to the room around them. He could hardly appraise everything in an instant, not in this state of mind - but the quality of much of the hand crafted furniture! The prices that those one-of-a-kind sculptures from a famous name that sat on the shelf nearby!

“This house? Yours."

If he'd believed in a higher being in that moment, he was ready for it to smite him dead where he stood. 

"I still need to sleep here, but that is all the time I spend within it. A scant few hours, at most. You would not be awake for it.”

His face must have fallen after that; Yuto raises a brow at whatever sort of quirk just played out on his face in that moment.

“...Or if you’d rather not share a bed with me… I offer the villa on the town for you to live in instead. Or if that isn't enough..."

His free arm ducks into his pocket a moment before it settles back to join the other on the table. He expects to see something come out with it, but the words he's armed himself with more than suffice.

"I'm certain a businessman such as yourself could appreciate the global prestige of the Sunset Ridge name. Or if not that, then simply every gold coin I own. **Everything.** It could all be yours, Huang.” 

He opens his palm. The Blue Feather sits, a little crumpled from the rough treatment, but waiting.

“All you have to say is yes.”   
  


And for a long moment, Huang is silent.  
To be a man wealthy beyond his wildest dreams, for the price of enduring the fallout of dating a local legend of infidelity... to give up his simple life for just a _taste_ of an impossible dream. A truly life-changing, once in a lifetime opportunity.

“You are a monster.” He says first. “You are all of the devils in hell-- give me that.” When Yuto begins pulling back in response to his words, seizes the feather from his fingers with the practiced ease that came from mastering assorted shuffling games. Clutching the poor cheap thing like the jealous misers he claimed to hate, he clears his throat and... finds he cannot face him. “If… if that is truly what you want…”

“So you accept?” He catches it, from the corner of his eyes. A glib smile. He hates it instantly.

“I would be a fool not to, should you be in keeping with your word.” Huang’s eyes narrow. There's another of those pregnant pauses, as he goes through the motions of saying something else, but cannot quite articulate it a moment. “...but I am genuinely curious. If you are willing to relinquish your money and your branding to me…” He eyes the feather a moment, a finger smoothing the downy quills around the cracked plastic shaft. An honest representation of the sanctity of the symbol this union would be ruining if he’d ever seen one. “What is the real reason? If you wanted them to move on, you could simply leave town and delegate another to run your affairs here. This is the move of a desperate man.” 

It’s only a moment, but the farmer’s smile fades. 

“Do you put every good deal through this much scrutiny?”

“I have not been married before.” Huang sits up primly. “Should I not know my ‘husband’ beyond the contents of his estate? It would be more convincing to sell the part at the _wedding_.” 

“...My reasons are my own.” Yuto snorts, waving him off dismissively. “Rest assured, I promise, all you'd have to do is show up in a suit and sell everyone on it. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” 

“I suppose I am.” He says, as though he has advanced his business at all in the time since he’d come here. Hobby farmers were not willing to pay a great deal for pineapples that were not yet grown, it seemed. The chair grinds against the floor as Yuto goes to get up again, patting him on the shoulder as he passes.

“Then look a little less ashamed of me in a week from now, won’t you? It’ll be harder to persuade Carter if you look at me the way you did in front of Zack.” Huang settles back into the chair slowly, listening to the clomping of his boots on the hardwood floor as they move further from his earshot and the door clicks open somewhere behind him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have places to be. Make yourself at home - it’ll be yours before long.”  
  


And with that, Huang is alone.  
  


A few minutes after Yuto’s departure, he gets up from the table; eyes the knick knacks on the shelf, the assortment of spices on the rack in the kitchen. The blue sheen of the vase he once sold to the farmer catches his eye near the television set; a single dried Sunsweet poking out the edge of the rim. Something about it feels right, but not for any reason he can immediately put a finger on.

 _Why me?_ He muses again. But this time, he knows the answer. Knows it in his soul, in this perpetual mansion on the countryside, in the billions he can practically envision himself swimming in in less than a fortnight;

**_who else was more due for a break like this than him? it would be nothing short of justice to milk this bastard for all he's worth.  
_ **

... or so went the tale he told himself, in the blissful ignorance of those hot summer nights. For perhaps if given a little more time, he may have realized the true price of that feather.


	2. Summer 14, Year 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it hasn't even been ONE DAY since the proposition, and already it's on sight.

“So, you an’ the farmer’re gettin’ hitched, huh?”

Huang chokes and sputters out his coffee. 

He had thought - _sworn_ \- that Zack hadn’t seen anything after all, given the lack of reaction when he’d returned home for the previous evening. Not a glance out of place, just a typical greeting before they both retired to their respective corners. _A beginner’s mistake._ His response comes out initially as a hacking cough; though he at least had it in him to wave Zack and his concerns away when he tries to approach to give what would’ve likely been a few hearty thumps on the back. 

“I...In a... manner of, speaking, yes.” He manages lamely after a few minutes, setting the bottle down atop his orange crate as his lungs attempt to recall the process of breathing anew. If Zack knew he and Yuto were marrying under false pretenses and -- Goddess forbid -- **_that loud woman from the winery_ **got hold of that little tidbit, this entire operation would be for naught. Zack brings him an old rag to sop up the excess, watches him carefully as he wipes his ‘countertop’. 

“Well, congratulations, never knew he was your type.” _He’s not._ “Though, why’d you run off so sudden? I haven’t seen you look THAT flustered in years. Not even when…” He trails off in thought. Zack’s brow, previously knit in concern, sets itself in place as his tone shifts to suspicion. “...you’re not doin’ something weird for money again, are you?”

“No!” Spoken too hastily, wrists crossed over each other to form an ‘X’. _Was he that transparent?!_... No, it wasn’t time to think about that. He has a bill of goods to sell. The merchant straightens himself up and loosens his bizarre posture, clearing his throat. Back to cleaning. “No, I mean, no, of course not. What do you take me for?” 

“Hm.” 

“I-I am quite serious!” He slams the hand not pushing the rag down on the crate with a dull thunk, briefly causing his half-emptied bottle of caffeine to rattle on its wooden surface. “Banish such thoughts from your mind. I would absolutely do **_no_ ** such 'weird thing' when a matter of the heart is concerned.” 

“That so?” He cannot quite tell if Zack sounds surprised or amused. Perhaps both. “How’d ya know it was love?”

“Well…” _It wasn’t._ He clears his throat again. “It was a bright morning, much like this, and I had gone to his home to peddle my apples… and something was different!” 

That… was the process of falling in love, yes? You saw something unique within the trash and rubble, and you grabbed it for yourself? He’d been intending to leave the matter there, but Zack's unbroken stare said there needed to be _more._

“A-And that different thing was…" _Think, Huang_! "i-it was...”

“Indescribable?!” Zack jumps in with a giddiness that might have better suited to someone with a face like Popuri's.

“Yes! Yes, exactly so.” Huang snaps his fingers and pointing towards the other, who clapped his hands together in boyish glee. Right, Zack was a fan of these sorts of stories wasn’t he? A _loser_ capturing the attention of someone others wanted or had through the power of sentiment alone...

...He was looking for a little slice of hope for his own love life, wasn’t he.

 _Shit._ But it was too late to back out now.

“Well, when he opened the door, and he looked at me…” He threads his fingers together, wracking his brain as he looks towards the door for inspiration. “And I, erm, looked at him…” 

“Yes??”

“Yes! Yes. And, he was…” He mines his brain for adjectives. Adverbs. SOMETHING satisfactory. “...A beauty... worthy of Golden Service Hour. B-But then! When I offered my wares for free, he refused! Because he knew money, it meant very, very much to me, yes?”

_Not a lie. Well, not totally._

_“_ And that is how I knew it was love. He had taken consideration for my, erm… considerations. And it just… went, ah, onward, from… there?” 

Silence from the audience. He looks back, expecting Zack to call him on his tall tales, only to meet with a facefull of tears.

“Oh, Huang!” He bawls, grabbing him by both shoulders and hugging him over the countertop. “Y-you really HAVE realized there’re things more important than money! I’m so PROUD..!”

_He bought THAT??_

“Hey, hey, hey! Do not be so embarrassing!” Huang grumbles, feebly punching at the other’s broad shoulders in an attempt to free himself. “Honestly!! How do you have this little faith in me!”

“I-I’ve just waited so **_LONG_ **for this day! It's like you're really a man now!” He sniffles, clapping him on shoulder one last time before straightening up a little to give him some space. "I-I’m invited, yeah?”

Huang snorts. “Of course, my old friend. The first on my list of guests.” Did everyone get like this about weddings? Maybe if there were others who made such a big deal about these sorts of affairs, he could bank on the gifts being good--

“You really are shameless, aren’t you?” 

An icy yet familiar voice from the doorway snaps both of their heads sidelong, to be greeted with the General Store Beauty. A rare visitor, to be certain, but gone were the moments of gentle smiles and casual curiosity for his wares. Today she seemed… to be many things, really, but frustrated at the forefront of it. She shoots her gaze between the pair of them; a quick glance at Zack’s emotion-swollen face suggests he doesn’t know the context for her rebuke either.

“Am I interrupting something?"

Huang takes one good look at Zack and shoves him off completely. “No, no, miss!” He stands up a little straighter, putting on his best customer service smile. “This is a friendly embrace between… what is the word you like to use…”

“Bros!” Zack piped up, hitting Huang hard enough on the back that he nearly flies into the counter. “I was congratulation’ my old friend here on his upcomin’ engagement. We ain’t, like, _in it_ or nothin’, haha.”

He wants to - tries to - signal that this isn’t a topic he should be discussing with anyone yet, but it’s too late. The crease in her brow smooths to something colder. “I… see. And does your ‘bro’ know that his betrothed had a girlfriend?”

Zack’s jaw falls. All eyes are on him, now. Huang shifts uncomfortably. She’s radiant even in anger. He’s tempted to just pass the buck and let the stupid bastard take responsibility for his own infidelity, maybe try and catch the rebound his fool betrothed apparently didn’t want to see... but that would be breaking his end of the deal, wouldn’t it? And he was so close. So, _so_ close.

For the meager cost of betting what good faith he’d garnered...

“Hmm… maybe I did.” He twirls his braid loosely around his index finger, concealed eyes focused on the floor. “But what does it matter? I was chosen, and so I won, yes?”

It’s a good thing he’s lost his conscience long ago, or he may have felt badly for speaking to this poor woman in the manner he was. He tilts his head up. 

“Perhaps if you did not want your man stolen out of your hands, you might have worked harder to keep him.”   
  


**_SLAP._ **

  
The impact is enough to knock his sunglasses from his nose, and they skitter across the room to hide under the bed, perhaps so that he may live vicariously through them. 

“What do you know about **_working hard_ ** ?? You haven’t worked a day in your life!” She snaps, all fire and brimstone and the faint scent of wine on her breath. “He’s always just… just **COME** to you! Gone out of his way, nearly every day! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get him to even so much as **_look_ ** my way??”

Her hand is raised for a second round and Huang jerks back on instinct to shield himself, but Zack catches her wrist. Shakes his head. _Not worth it._ She heaves out a dry sob she’d been trying to hold in since she’d arrived.

“Well, con- **grat** -u-lations on winning. Enjoy your shitty prize.”

Wrenching her wrist free of Zack’s hand, she storms out, opening the door as wide as possible;

“And don’t even THINK about trying to dump off your apples in town any more any more.”

\-- before slamming it so hard behind her that the entire cabin seems to shudder. Huang touches the smarting spot upon his cheek gingerly. It wasn’t something he was unaccustomed to, but…

From beside him, he hears his roommate speaking in sobered tones.

“...You screwed up bad, Huang.”

“I know.”

“Come to think of it, this isn’t the first rumor I’ve heard about--”

“ ** _I know_**.” His tone is sharper than he’d anticipated. Zack sighs and steps away into the kitchen.

“Sorry. I know how you feel,” he hears from the other room. He faintly hears the fridge door open. “I told you before, yeah? I got someone I love too. But.. I think if I was as… **_bold_ ** as you, then Rod-- er, the person who was, _also in love with,_ that person, would feel like Karen does now. But I can’t say I wouldn’t do it if I had the chance, either...” 

“Mmhn.” He leans back against some of the packing crates in the back, listening to the steady rush of the sea against the shore outside. The calls of the birds, catching the updrafts to carry them into the clouds towards the morning sun. Something other than _any_ of the conversations he’d just had in the past few days. Zack is still talking, but it sinks into a meaningless babble until there’s a sudden chill against his ruddied cheek. He jolts in surprise.  
  


_A cold compress?_   
  


“Just wanted to let you know, if it doesn’t work out… you can always come home.” He offers him a weak smile, albeit a defeated one. “What ya did-- might be doin’-- is _totally_ wrong, but I’ve seen ya through worse.” 

“...Zack…” He doesn’t know what to say. He takes over holding the frozen package of corn against his cheek, oddly… touched by the sentiment. If he was truly committing to this path… it was only right to give back to those that had helped him get there, wasn’t it? It was no longer a matter of optimistic, blind desire now - he had a CAUSE to rip this scumbag billionaire off.

His resolve strengthened, he found his smile returned easily.

“When I become a wealthy man, I will buy you the biggest boat imaginable. Then your Lillia will have no choice but to forget that other man and run off with you as you sail the world together.” 

“Ahaa-ha…” Zack squints. “...And you’re **sure** this isn’t about money??” 

“Heuh? You would accuse me of that even after what you have seen?” He huffs, falling back into character. “Of course! I just chased off a beautiful customer now for that-- Yuto’s hand! Did you not watch me take a blow, just now??”

“I know, I know. I’m just joshin’ ya.” He nudges his arm, and they both laugh briefly, though an awkward silence swoops over the cabin in the minutes that follow. Zack excuses himself for work, citing a few pickups he’d forgotten to gather the previous night. Off to discuss his affairs, surely.

Keeping the corn against his face, Huang leans against the counter and counts the waves. And, for the first time, he’d almost relished the thought of a day with no customers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written a fanfic in literal years and I'm not really sure how long chapters typically are?? Oh well. We'll see where this goes.


	3. Summer 17, Year 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Huang ignores the plot in favor of the worst surprise date imaginable.

Unfortunately, even silence had its upper limits.

He waves Zack out the door as the shipper takes off at such an hour that it could barely constitute being called morning. The buyers on the mainland anticipated the goods to be on their end of the shore by 7 AM at the latest, and it was more likely that death would take the man before he allowed Mineral Town’s economy to come to a standstill. 

At times, Huang would accompany him - all business is good business, after all - but he’d found himself feeling too lethargic to run his pitches as of late. There had even been a visitor the day before yesterday - not another to yell at him, thankfully - but that he had not even _tried_ to call them over had gotten Zack clucking and fussing like a broodhen the moment they’d left. 

As he finishes making use of his window-reflection to finish securing the beads at the end of his braid, he tsks himself for the bags under his eyes. 

“What is this? Why are you looking so tired? You have faced no hardship today, or yesterday.” He taps his reflection - twice, chiding, on the nose. “Success has made you lazy, and you have not yet even secured it. Shameful, shameful.”

His reflection has nothing to say in response beyond making sour faces back at him like some resigned ocean spirit prepared to pass when daylight finally broke. Which would be soon, no doubt - already, the dark curtain of stars had begun to fade from the horizon, making way for the brilliant oranges of the mid-5 AM twilight. 

It wasn’t even 6 in the morning, and already, he was talking to himself.

 _Perhaps_ , he resolves, _I need to get out more_.

Fumbling around under his counter, he finds his suitcase and piles his clothes out of it, replacing the contents with those armloads of apples from a nearby crate. There’s no real organization to it, he’s bound not to remember which is which by the end of the hour, which he resolves as being a metaphor for the present state of his customer base… at least, if that Karen had something to say about it. 

Snapping the old clasps shut, he practices using it as a shield against fists or shoes before he heads out for a morning walk. _Time to assess the damage._

* * *

The damage, however, is not nearly as intensive as one would expect.

At least not physically. Huang had gotten his share of slammed doors, berating words, and on one occasion, a dropped flower pot - but there was none of that today. By 11 AM, his knuckles ached and his legs pleaded for a bench, but across town - save for the General Store and the farmhouse on Sunset Ridge, which he had taken pains to avoid - not a single door had opened. 

Some were easy enough to chalk up to sleep - the hour was still pretty early when he’d made his initial lap around - but others… he had seen the tops of heads in a few windows, only to disappear at a moment’s notice. In some cases, the bustle of morning dishes and chatter had ground to a halt the moment he’d knocked. The Beauty of the General Store had, for all intents and purposes, made good on her threat. 

Conventional wisdom suggested heading back to the house and setting up for the morning before Karen caught him hanging around, but the hour was still early and the town had yet to _fully_ awaken. He spares his legs and settles in at one of the outdoor tables beside the inn, taking care to keep his head down and rest close to the neatly tended-to bushes around the perimeter. No one could complain about what they couldn’t see.

He’s not sure how long he’s slouched himself there, head on the table, when a soft clink of glass on wood rouses him. He raises his gaze enough to first see a glass of water, and then a girl with bright blue eyes and a sympathetic smile standing next to him. _The innkeeper’s daughter_ , he notes.

“This seat taken?”

He shakes his head. He hears the scrape of the chair on the stone as she sits.

“You came around earlier, didn’t you?” There’s a little more shuffling as she makes herself comfortable. “Don’t let them get you down. It’s not _your_ fault what happened. Not entirely, anyway.”

“It is part of the job.” He quips, head still on its side on the table. The usual ducktail he liked to spike his hair into was likely smushed on one side by now. He wasn’t even sure what the topic was at this point, but that was a fair explanation for most of what he did.

“No, I mean…” Ran places her fingertips together before her chin, attempting to parse out the phrasing. “Wait, you don’t know about Cliff?”

“Cliff?” 

“A man who lived here at the inn a few years ago.” A close friend to her as well, it seemed, by the way her voice faltered at the very mention. “Carter would know more than I do, but…he and Yuto were close. Cliff ran out of money to continue staying here near the end of fall last year and left right before the first snowfall.”

 _Wonderful. Another twist for the soap opera._ He’d at least had the decency to raise his head as she continued.

“Not many people seemed to notice, but Yuto was… never quite the same after that. When he came back in Spring, something was off. I could tell.”

“I see.” Said Huang in the most sympathetic of tones, wondering why he should give a shit about some absent schmuck with no money. “I have… noticed it myself, it is true.”

_(And he did - Yuto HAD come to visit more often in the second year, as he was further building his fortune… typically with gold ore to give and rare products to sell. Good times.)_

“Right?? He’s so gross now. Um, no offense.” _None taken_. Ran rubs at the back of her neck sheepishly. “Sorry! Maybe I’m still a bit salty…Is it true you’re like… y’know?”

She raises her pinkie. Huang blinks incredulously.

“I am… unsure what you mean, exactly, but if it is what I have been hearing all along, it is true, yes. We are… in an engagement.” _That was one way of putting it._ “Though it seems that there is much I have not been told.”

“Mmm…” There was that piteous gaze again. There’s an awkward beat of silence between the two, and she nudges the glass of water a little closer.

“...A-Ahah, sorry, I shouldn’t have come out here to pry. Gosh…” She digs about in the pockets of her shorts and pushes a handful of gold coins out towards him. “I-I mean, what I really came out here for was, um, did you still have any of those apples for sale? I’d like to buy one!”  
  


* * *

And that was the only (SUGDW) apple he’d sold that day. 

Before he’d left to continue the trip home before the day’s lunch rush, Ann had encouraged him to go talk to Carter “ _for his own sake”_ , a notion he had politely thanked her for but disregarded the moment he’d left the table. It didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, did it? It wasn’t like he was after Yuto’s heart in the first place... nor did he have any real interest in business that didn’t involve him.

No, the only thing that matters is-- _there is something on his shoulder._

**_“AIIYAHH!”_ **

He brandishes his suitcase and spins - or maybe he’s spun, he can’t really tell - around to come face to… part of face with none other than the devil himself. 

“Easy there, _honey._ It’s just me.” He’s wearing another one of those easy smiles. There’s a very pronounced crunch in Huang’s brow as he places his own hand over the one on his shoulders with the intent of removing it. The difference in strength is enough that not **only** does he fail in doing this, but he gives Yuto the opportunity to lace their fingers together as they lower them.

“Oh, _darling_!” He has never worn a faker smile. “I did not see you there, yes? To what do I owe the _pleasure_ of being stopped in the street? I am doing business, as you can see.”

“Well, I was _wondering,_ ” Yuto swings their arms together. “If you would like to go on a date with me today? I feel in the midst of the preparations, I haven’t gotten to _see_ you.” 

“Aha! Ha! Oh, but as I have **said** , I am working right now!” He wiggles the suitcase once more, albeit lowered to _slightly_ less threatening heights as he worked to free his fingers. When Yuto gives no quarter, he turns up his gaze to fix the other with a glare, attempting to communicate an unspoken _‘what in the hell are you doing_ ’. “I’m afraid that...I…”

When he meets Yuto’s eyes, though, Huang finds the exact same expression reflected on the other’s face. 

It is then he notes that Yuto has continued swinging their joined hands in the same direction, he notes, over and over. Following the pendulum of the movement out of the corner of his eyes, it is only then he spots them. The assembly of housewives, headed towards the square for their afternoon prattle. Anna and Sasha ahead… Manna in the street behind them. For the briefest of moments, their eyes meet. _Shit._

He turns his head like it’s on a crank to be met with that damned smug grin once more.

“Still busy, _baby_?” 

“...My schedule has, through some miracle, opened up.” 

With the women at the left and the right of them, they cut through the hole in the brick wall leading into the back entry of the forested area by the square, making a show of being so engrossed in one another’s company that they were simply unable to even _vaguely acknowledge_ anything or anyone else. 

* * *

… Which ended up being fairly easy, given the difficulty of navigating the terrain. The undergrowth near the _unofficial_ entrance was quick to latch onto expensive loafers and loose fabric - which, while advantageous for evading older women and their ankle-length dresses, didn’t bode terribly well for Huang. 

“Never in my life have I seen such romance in action.” He remarks blandly, carefully trying to dislodge his suede shoes from yet _another_ pitfall of moss and roots. 

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He catches the end of an eye roll as the farmer pauses in his step to wait for him. “Who doesn’t love a scenic nature walk?”

“Someone in improper dress with a _business_ to run.” He scowls as he frees his right foot, only for the left to break something and land him in deeper. “Why did you not let me negotiate with them? Or even take the northern park? It was right there. Clear. Paved. Free of… disobedient trees.”

“The morbid fear on your face said I shouldn’t.” Yuto rolls his shoulders gently as Huang grumbles, wiggling his foot out of his caught shoe. “Think of it as a character building exercise. Farm training!” Yuto offers unhelpfully, simply watching as his betrothed balances himself on his right foot alone in order to bend and collect what is his. 

“Need help?” He edges closer.

“No.” Huang scoffs, stubborn as he works at wriggling the loafer out from the crevice in the root. “I have survived angered customers, biting dogs, the sea, _your_ lack of common sense, and who knows what else.” Almost… almost... “I can surely... conquer a wooded area... without issue!” 

And with one final pull, his shoe - though a bit scuffed - is free. Yuto is there when he inevitably begins to topple forward from the momentum, catching the other against his chest with a dull ‘oof’. The farmer smells of soil and summer flowers - it seemed likely he’d been out in the mountains foraging for herbs before this affair had come to pass. He feels the vibration of his voice as he speaks.

“If you give me one of your apples, I’ll carry you to the clearing.”

A timely offer, to be certain… and likely a sign he had remained in this contorted position too long. Huang jerks his head back and nearly falls over again - or would, if he hadn’t braced his elbow against Yuto’s arm in time.

“...You are sweaty.” He squints. “I can see the mud on your shirt. And this dissatisfactory date was your idea. You should be paying _me,_ yes?” A pause. 

His attention skirts back to the hole he just departed, and the large root his single-shoed foot was now perched precariously on - the only thing other than Yuto that was keeping him off the ground entirely. The handle of his suitcase is wedged around the fingers of one hand, and he carries his shoe in the other. 

“Half an apple.” Huang sighs. Yuto snorts. 

“Deal.”

It’s a bizarre position to work from, given that both of Huang’s hands are full and he’s already half leaning against him, but Yuto just puts his free hand on Huang’s back and uses the one he’s leaning against to scoop the legs out from under him. It might’ve been almost suave had the sudden shift not caught Huang completely off guard, leading to Yuto getting a full suitcase slung in the leg. He staggers, and Huang is forced to wrap an arm around his shoulder with his shoe-hand to keep from falling again. 

“Lift… that… up.” He grunts, gritting his teeth through the pain.

“Sorry!” Huang grimaces as he recoils his arm, careful not to sling the other in the head as he re-positions his suitcase between his lap and chest. Safer there. Heavy, but safe.

The rest of the walk- rough trip though it is - is passed silently in word, but in the backdrop of twittering birds and the wind rushing gently through the leaves.  
  


* * *

  
“You know, in hindsight, this was not so bad.” Huang hums as they near a crystal clear pond on the edge of the forest, the trees shifting aside to reveal a tiny park. “A few branches, yes. but I really do feel I could gain an appreciation for ‘roughing it’.”

“Great... Super...” Yuto grunts above him, kneeling in preparation to deposit the merchant and his wares on a grassy knoll before collapsing on his back beside him. “Perhaps next time… you’ll even hike... on your own two feet.” 

_“Oh, don’t be like tha~aat!”_ Huang mimics his tone from earlier, undoing the clasp on his briefcase and plucking out one of the apples, dipping it in the pond to wash. “It was you who desired to come this way, yes?”

“Hey... Not _entirely_ by choice...” 

“Yes, yes, I hate talking to them too.” Satisfied that the apple of unknown type is in an appropriate state of cleanliness, he removes a pocket knife from the suitcase and flicks it open. “But customers are customers. And we all do what we must.”

Deftly, he cuts the apple in half and hands one to Yuto, who raises his head just long enough to find his way to accepting it. 

“Are you really okay with going through with this, then?”

“That is… an interesting question.” The conman hums, pausing to take and swallow a bite of his own half. “...Are you having second thoughts?” He sounds a little more terse than he may have liked. _Better not be, after the pains I’ve gone through._

“No, not at all.” Regardless of if he’d truly meant it, Huang can respect the confidence the farmer says those words with, at least. He takes a moment to finish the last few bites of apple as Yuto continues. “Just that… doing what you must. I don’t want to force you if it’s not what you want. I mean, if you just need money…”

“My reasons are my own.” Taking a moment to shut his things back in his briefcase, he settles back against it, rolling the lower portion of his jacket up against it like a pillow. “...But I will admit, it is not the notion that makes me antsy so much as the context. A crowd can quickly become a mob in the face of perceived unfairness... and I rather dislike violence.” 

“I’ll protect you then.” Yuto pipes up with what sounds like someone else’s words in his mouth. Huang raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to look over towards him.

“Oh, will you?” He can’t keep the amusement from his tone. “Xièxie. I look forward to seeing you fend off the guests.”

“I’m surprised you think anyone will show up. That suitcase looked pretty full.”

“Door crashers, then.” He sniffs, though conceals a smile as he returns his gaze to the clouds lazily floating past through the shade of the trees. Today had started poorly, and he hadn't done much in the way of sales today... but perhaps after the series of headaches he had endured today, he could afford just one more day away from the counter.

“Huang?” He hears Yuto beside him, calling him out of his doze.

“Yes?”

“Can I have another apple?”

“500 Gold.”

“Huang, come ON--”

“I do not mix work and personal affairs.” 

He receives the loudest groan he’s ever heard out of anyone and the clink of coin in response, which gets a small, breathy chuckle out of his throat. Perhaps… even if Yuto was distinctly irritating when he wasn't en route with treasures, this business of marriage would not be quite **so** terrible. At least if they continued to live in a manner such as this.  
  
 _(… In good health and wealth, of course.)_

**Author's Note:**

> honestly this was just birthed through me obsessively binging SOSFOMT for two days, after which point I realized had been jipped on an actual storyline with this skeezebag so i got up and started writing this entirely as a self indulgent act. apologies to literally everyone
> 
> Edit: ok the debuting chapter was a mess but I think I've fixed it... by all but changing the entire thing. thanks me


End file.
